


Up In Arms

by WindwiseWords



Series: Clone Culture [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Multi, Other, Pack Cuddles, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindwiseWords/pseuds/WindwiseWords
Summary: On a frigid world, a relief effort is underway after the droids have been driven out or destroyed. An offshift for Wolffe and his pack ends in an attempt to fight off the cold and rest. Plo Koon desires much the same, but part of the path of a Jedi is to walk alone...





	Up In Arms

**Author's Note:**

> More fluff! The next one will be dirty most likely, it's one of those days.

A snow world, or maybe it was a moon. Wolffe found himself too tired and sore to care. The General demanded he rest for an entire two off-shifts and by the end of half the first Sinker found him sleeping in a pile of finished paperwork. The battles weren’t hard, they were with minimal casualties. The relief effort taxed him more than the droids. The 104th and civvies didn’t mix well often, battle-hardened and logical soldiers led by an even more battle-hardened, cut-and-dry General.

Wolffe felt something warm and firm press up against his back, tensing only a moment before his hand found a familiar scar. Boost. Rolling over he was met with familiar eyes in the dim light of the barracks. He traced along his brother’s side, relishing the contact of the body he trusted most. Sinker wedged into the bunk as well, the scrape of metal on floor indicating he pushed his bunk over to make a sort of double-bed.

Dogpiling was common among all troopers, but for Wolffe it drove away nightmares and insecurities that piled up with small ‘failures’ he incurred over the day. With Sinker now pressed tight along the curve of his back, and Boost firmly pressed into his chest, the Commander relaxed into the least tense state he’d been in all week.

Heat was much more difficult to produce than cool air. Warm greys were part of the kit for these types of missions but the icy chill in the air only seemed to break when the thick blankets tucked around warm bodies stacked together. Troopers rotated who braved the edges, unless their squad mates enjoyed cold, or if someone was nursing an injury and needed the heat.

Wolffe didn’t mind cool, but this was frigid, to the point that the tent flaps were sealed with box tape along with all the edges of the tents. It kept most of the wind out, but the temperature seeped in anyway.

“Think the General is cold?” Boost whispered, not wishing to disturb a pile of Shiny troopers huddled in the corner. They had one of the pads for the bedding pulled over them atop the blankets, thinner bodies not quite hardened to the elements yet. Boost watched them press ever closer in their doze.

“If the General is cold, then he wouldn’t tell us.” Wolffe mused, hearing an affirmative hum from Sinker. “He has a heating unit, small one, but unless he’s in direct peril I doubt he’d use it.” Fairness to his men was pivotal to Plo Koon. Some of them respected him more, but they all wished he’d take his advantages when it mattered to his health. No other General was treated by a clone medic, at least not to completed healing.

“If he gets frostbite, I’m going to glue that heating unit to his rear.” Sinker threatened tiredly. “Kel Dor have that thick skin, sure, but that only means it’s harder for them to warm up and cool off.” Wolffe and his brothers all sighed in unison. Stubborn General.

 

The stubborn General himself did break down to use the heating unit. In fact, he ended up curled about it like a newborn to their mother. It broke some of the shiver, but it did little for the depigmentation of his skin. The cooler he got the more his blood pooled away to keep his internals warm, and deep brown-tan became a cream color with marbled patches of deep brown over important organs. This was not going to end well, and with the Commander sent off, he doubted he’d be checked on until later. So, with that in mind and a heavy weight in his heart, Plo Koon dragged himself away from the slight warmth of his bed and began to layer. He took the little heater with him, as well as a thick blanket. A peace offering for so insistently sending Wolffe away earlier.

 

The way Plo Koon found his troopers made a bit of the cold melt away. A tangle of limbs and bodies all wedged under their blankets, sharing warmth and beds and everything they could just as always. He had a moment of something close to jealousy, a desire to participate in that closeness, but he sent it into the Force. Wolffe stirred first, gripping his brothers with each arm and tugging them tight to his chest with a growl.

“Wolffe.” A soft voice, deep and smooth brought Wolffe to the present and out of his dreams. Nobody had come to hurt his pack.

“General…?” There was confusion, concern, and exhaustion in his voice, a thumb rubbing the sleep out of his good eye. “General?” A firmer question following a knitting of serious brows. “Your skin color is wrong, General.”

Boost and Sinker stirred now, both going tense with alert, the strange connection the clones shared waking the Shiny Pile in the corner bunks as well. Now Plo Koon had twenty eyes on him, nineteen if one discounted Wolffe’s new eye. Their concern and overwhelming urge to serve and protect drown out any embarrassment Plo may have felt.

“The atmosphere here is harsh. It appears I cannot tolerate the cold.” Alarm spread through the force like a klaxon’s siren, but he raised a hand. “I just need somewhere warmer to rest, Commander.”

Wolffe began to run through all the possible ways to generate heat short of setting fire to supplies and categorize them by effectiveness verses cost. He came back out of his head when Sinker’s warmth disappeared a moment and cold, smooth and ungiving skin replaced his. Instinct came over him and in his half-exhausted state, Wolffe grabbed this new ‘trooper’ to warm them, only to realize he had pulled half the General into his lap. Any contact sprang away, but Sinker grunted at him.

“Just tell him the rules, Wolffe.” Sinker moaned, collapsing down with an arm along his side, waiting for the others to settle so he could wrap up his limbs with their limbs once again. Boost nudged Wolffe and lay down as well.

“Alright.” Some he’d leave out, for decency, but the slight tilt of an off-colored Kel Dor head made him nervous. Wolffe once again lay back, guiding Plo Koon to himself again. He thanked whatever being in the Force made him want to keep his briefs on this time, and his brothers’ modesty around Shinies. “Like… Like this, sir.” Plo Koon lay like a stick, perfectly straight and still, and that made it incredibly hard to get close enough to warm him up. The vest he wore was untied, leaving skin exposed. Wolffe hesitantly touched, checking the temperature of his core, then guided a strong arm to lay over both his side and Boost’s. Sinker’s lay over the General and Wolffe, and with gentle urging, Wolffe managed to line up all their hipbones identically. Plo was still stiff, and Wolffe wasn’t sure if it was cold or that he’d never done this before.

“Sir.” Boost murmured, carefully resting his hand over the back of his ribs and laying his arm atop. That sandwiched his wrist, and with any luck important veins that could carry the heat away to his body.

Sinker felt blush creep into his cheeks as he realized that yes, Kel Dor do have butt cheeks. With the two troopers on the end turned inward, Wolffe was left with the only option to cuddle up to the General that pretending to be a log.

“I apologize for requiring you all like thi—”

“None of that General.” It was soft, almost a hiss of annoyance from Wolffe. It was a battle of instinct, desire to treat him like a brother rather than his General. He corrected himself quickly. “We’re more than happy to serve, General. It wouldn’t be good if you became ill.”

Plo Koon found the warmth from his men intoxicatingly wonderful, and their devotion warmed him on a deeper level than body heat. The tiny heater, left near them, was slowly shifted toward by the pack of Shinies. Wolffe gave them a warning rumble, and protectively squeezed Plo to his chest. He froze when he realized he was ‘defending’ again and relaxed.

“Sorry sir.”

“I take no offence. I find it endearing you would defend me as you do with your pack, Commander.” That caused a temperature spike in the Commander. Plo used to think this was a poor reaction to compliments but later was told by Kenobi it meant they were blushing. With thicker skin, Kel Dor couldn’t do such things, but their pigment did change with strong emotions, darker or lighter just by half a shade.

Wolffe died some inside every time he blushed, but Plo decided to use the arm mushed between them to copy some of Wolffe’s actions. Maybe if he acted like a trooper, Wolffe would relax; at this rate they’d never sleep. Plo carefully rested a hand over his Commander’s heart, wedging the arm between them flat and relaxed to ensure Wolffe didn’t think it a push away.

Sinker was already out cold, just accepting this was happening and nestling into their General’s back, arms under his head and over his hip. Boost did much the same, holding Sinker’s wrist as his was held back. A group hug, leaving Wolffe to parse out the best way to deal with this situation.

“Your claws, sir.” Wolffe finally got out, the tips prickling against skin. With a slow flattening of cold fingers, the points turned to soft finger pads over his strong pectoral muscle.

Plo kept still, savoring the warmth of Wolffe’s chest and his heartbeat, only felt once before when he had to make sure for himself that Wolffe was alive. That horrible time in the pod, air thinning, fighting for not only his life but to prove the lives of his men were worth it. All of it, even his own. He pushed the thoughts into the force, and finally relaxed against his Commander.

“Please tell me if they bother you again, Commander.” Wolffe nodded once, trying to figure out if he should stay awake or sleep. His body demanded the latter, and due to the height difference, he ended up slowly leaning his head onto Plo Koon’s collar bone. He noted it was longer than his own and seemed to split into two portions like the bones of his forearm. Sturdy. He faded back into a doze, then into a deep sleep thinking about the different sounds and feel of his General’s body.

Plo Koon did not sleep right away, keeping his senses to the Force and just felt each of his troopers. The Shinies were starting to stir naturally, sensing their shifts approaching. Sinker and Boost lost each other’s hands for a moment and grew distressed until Plo ever so carefully pushed them back together with the Force. Wolffe’s thoughts were tangled with a mix of uncertainty and curiosity about… About Plo’s collar bone? He resisted a soft chuckle, amused with the sheer creativity of the clone mind. As the Shinies finally headed off, he decided to rest and allow his body time to recover from the chill.


End file.
